


Captain's Chair

by Demibel



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Chair Sex, Emotional, Forgive Me, I'm not entirely sure, Implied Sexual Content, Light Bondage, M/M, captain's chair, porn with and without plot?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 11:33:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2268171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demibel/pseuds/Demibel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three times Sulu didn't sit in the Captain's chair, and the two times he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captain's Chair

Kirk has been restless all day, throwing things at the back of his chair, humming loudly, swiveling in his beloved captain’s chair. It makes Sulu’s blood boil, but no one would know by the look of him. He is the kind of man who gets dangerously calm when he’s irritated, but Jim knows this all too well. It’s late now, and the transition of shifts is slow. They’re the only two on the bridge, and Sulu’s taking out his frustration with the captain. “Do you think I don’t know what you’re doing, Jim?” He asks, his breath hot and low against the man’s neck. Jim can only answer with a shuddering sigh, and a shake of his head. “I know exactly what you want, Jim. And you know I’ll give it to you, if you ask. Why do you insist on frustrating me so?” He’s got three fingers deep inside Kirk, and he’s setting a relentless pace, but he knows this is what Jim needs. He needs to let go for a while, and let someone else take command. “I’m sorry, Hikaru.” The use of first names is something sacred to them, and a privilege awarded only to the captain. Sulu smiles and twists his fingers in the way he knows Jim likes. “Ask for it, Jim. And I’ll give it to you.” The captain grips tight to Sulu’s arms, digging in with his fingernails and lets out the filthiest stream of begging he’s ever heard. “Please, please Hikaru. Oh god, I need it so badly, please.” His pilot smiles, and his pleading is answered with permission to come. They clean the chair after, and laugh when the next shift comes in, all smiles and well wishes for a good night.

 

Jim can’t sit still, but if he moves, he can feel the rope shift under his clothing, rubbing against his skin and marking him up, claiming him. He stares directly at the back of Sulu’s head, hoping that he can make the pilot look back out of sheer force of will. The shifts are about to end, and he’ll finally be able to have a moment of privacy with the man who so expertly tied him up before breakfast this morning. He crosses his legs, letting out a soft sigh at the feeling of the rope brushing against his already sensitive groin. He’s glaring daggers into the back of the pilot’s head now. It’s just like him, to put Kirk in something that draws the frustration out, just bubbling under the surface, until Jim is ready to burst. Because then Sulu is there, breaking the feelings out and letting the captain release them. The crew leaves slowly, filtering out of the bridge in time for dinner. Sulu stands last, facing Jim with that damned smirk of his. “Something bothering you, Jim?” Damn him. Damn that tone and that look and that stupid swagger as he walks over and captures Jim’s lips in a searing kiss. He’s undressed slowly, so that Sulu can admire his handiwork as each inch of skin is exposed. All it takes is a few well timed strokes before Jim is shaking, so hard that he’s about to sob, but Sulu is well equipped to deal with his captain. He strokes, and whispers, and grinds his own clothed erection against Jim’s bare one, until Kirk swears he could see stars, and not because the display was open. When he comes, it’s like a lightning strike, quick, powerful and loud. Sulu cleans him off efficiently, gently, as if there was evidence of their games staining the captain’s chair and his own uniform. They make it just in time to grab the last trays for dinner, and if the captain is more than a little flushed, Sulu makes no mention of it, the jerk.

 

The third time in the captain’s chair is the first time Sulu lowers himself to join the other. It’s uncomfortable, the two of them sharing a chair made for one, but they need it. Jim’s shaking, clutching to Sulu’s shirt collar, holding back choked sobs as Sulu assures him that everything is alright. They survived the fall, and the destruction of Vulcan, but they lost so much. They’ve been writing the registries, the names of the fallen who sacrificed themselves for the greater good for the last week now, and it’s getting to the captain. Those were people he vowed to protect, and he let them down. Sulu repeats what he’s been saying for an hour now, that Jim is a good man, and a good captain, and he shouldn’t blame himself. Jim just clutches tighter, curled into the pilot like a child. Sulu doesn’t mind it, because the comfort of a warm body tight against his own reminds him that he’s one of the lucky ones, the ones that survived when the odds were definitely not in his favor. They take comfort in each other, despite the uncomfortable chair.

 

The fourth time Sulu sits in the captain’s chair, he’s completely alone. Jim told him he’d be great, and Dr. McCoy seemed to approve of his actions, but his mind is completely focused on one thing. Jim is on that planet, with that homicidal maniac and a bunch of Klingons. It’s no surprise that he’s a little on edge. Everything happens so fast after that, and he leaves the captain’s chair to catch up. It’s a blur, but by the end of it, he receives word that Jim is back, alive and mostly well and he’s off and running to the med bay to confirm for himself. He slips into the man’s bed with him when the doctors’ backs are turned. “If you ever scare me like that again, you will live to regret it.” He whispers, taking the captain’s hand. “Promise?” Sulu chuckles softly, and just holds the other more tightly.

 

The fifth time is their favorite. Sulu is on the chair, but Jim is sitting on Sulu, straddling his lap with his knees on either side of the other’s hips. They’ve been ribbing each other all day, teasing and hinting at what they wanted as soon as they got a moment alone. And now the captain is taking his pleasure from his pilot, and vice versa. They’ve got five years to go, and if this is how their mission starts, neither of them want it to end any time soon.


End file.
